


And hands found hurrying, touching one another

by naivesilver



Category: Hatoful Kareshi | Hatoful Boyfriend
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Brotherly Bonding, Established Relationship, Gen, M/M, Post-BBL
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-23
Updated: 2020-01-23
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22372750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naivesilver/pseuds/naivesilver
Summary: “You’re a bloody fool” are the first words Sakuya says, because of course they are.The corner of Yuuya’s mouth curls in a tired smile. “Always so delicate, mon frère. A sight for sore eyes.”A couple years after the BBL storyline, Yuuya gets shot while working for the Dove Party.Sakuya...takes it as well as one would expect.
Relationships: Kawara Ryouta/Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya, Sakazaki Yuuya & Shirogane Le Bel Sakuya
Comments: 9
Kudos: 27





	And hands found hurrying, touching one another

**Author's Note:**

  * For [janie_tangerine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/janie_tangerine/gifts).



The phone rings in the middle of the afternoon.

It takes Sakuya a moment to register what is happening and to stop playing the piano, and the ringtone clashes with Mozart’s _Turkish Rondo_ for a few seconds before he finally fishes his cell phone out of his pocket. It’s sudden and cacophonic enough that it startles Ryouta awake from where he was napping on the couch, and for that alone Sakuya feels the urge to just flip the caller off and then hang up.

Carving out an hour for themselves like this is getting progressively harder, after all. Sakuya should be studying, preparing himself for the prestigious music school he’ll enter in a short while, and Ryouta is thinking about cramming another job between his morning shift and the evening classes he takes, because he refuses to let Sakuya pay for anything except what’s strictly necessary and the death of his mother while he was sealed away has thrown him off his already precarious balance.

Still, though, today was supposed to be only theirs. They’d locked the door and all. Sakuya was practicing, it’s true, but it had been for the atmosphere rather than a true exercise. Ryouta had thrown some amused comment about his music taste, before dozing off somewhere between Chopin’s _Nocturne_ and an aria from _La Traviata_. Sakuya would be offended at the implication that his music might be soporific, but he knows how tired his boyfriend is, and how little he rests at night. Plus, he enjoys stealing glances at Ryouta while he’s sleeping. He looks relaxed, for once, completely vulnerable, blue hair falling on his eyes.

But now Ryouta is awake, looking faintly alarmed and decidedly confused, and Sakuya is so angry at the sheer gall of whoever has dared disturb them that he waves away even the barest minimum of courtesy and barks “Yes?” in the speaker as soon as he’s managed to answer the call.

He sobers up almost instantly when he hears the voice on the other side. In truth, he goes so still that it’s a miracle his phone doesn’t slip out of his grasp.

“Are you one Shirogane Sakuya? You’re listed as mister Sakazaki Yuuya’s emergency contact.”

Later, Sakuya will not remember what he’s saying now. He answers questions and asks some of his own without wavering, no doubt the picture of calmness, but in truth he hears his voice as though it were someone else’s, distant and echoing endlessly before reaching his ears.

He doesn’t notice Ryouta drawing closer, but he’s standing there as soon as Sakuya hangs up, a warm and comforting weight leaning on his shoulder. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Sakuya takes a deep breath before answering. A second one. Even so, he can see his hand shaking ever so slightly as he puts away his phone.

“My idiot brother got shot.”

Ryouta takes the lead.

Sakuya feels vaguely guilty, because he knows the world is at times still too overwhelming for his boyfriend, after such a long time frozen in a vault with only Hiyoko’s spirit for company; but in truth the gratitude trumps everything else, because it’s easier to just entwine his fingers with Ryouta’s and let himself be tugged along in the maze of public transport and hospital hallways than it would be to focus on what he’s doing.

He knows that he’s being stupid. His is a textbook overreaction, because there’s nothing warranting such a whirlwind of dark thoughts.

It’s not as if Yuuya was dead, after all.

_Yet_ , a traitorous voice whispers in his brain, and Sakuya would fight it, if it were anything physical. No. He won’t accept it.

He vaguely remembers his childhood nurse saying, foreign accent stressing odd syllables: “Bad weeds never wither.” She would accompany these words with a meaningful glance towards Yuuya, too young as well to live away from their mother but always hovering at the edge of their family life, unwanted and distant, the strange weed in a garden of fancy Le Bel roses.

As a child, Sakuya had taken her words to mean that he would never get rid of his half-brother, an unrelenting thorn in his side for the rest of his life. Now it should be a comfort – Yuuya is hardy enough and enough of a bother that nothing is likely to get him down. The mere fact that he’s still alive despite having the common sense of a succulent is a testament of how hard it would be to kill him.

And yet. From the moment he heard the clerk on the other end of the line mentioning a hospital, mentioning _Yuuya_ , Sakuya’s brain seems to have cut any tie with rationality. He keeps spiralling away from the bus seat he’s curled in and right back at the infirmary of St Pigeonation’s, holding his brother’s body as he succumbed to the poison.

Yuuya survived. He knows, he knows, he can’t forget it. The blasted buffoon survived and came back, Sakuya is convinced, just to importune him.

But he didn’t come back right away. For a while, Sakuya mourned.

And now, even if he knows that the situation is completely different, that the stakes are not so high, his mind keeps looping back around the same thought: _what if._

What if help hadn’t arrived in time? What if the doctors are wrong and Yuuya’s bound to get worse? What if Sakuya has to mourn again, and again, and again? What if…

It’s suffocating. Trying to hang onto logic is like wading through quicksand - the more he struggles to focus on something else the more he feels himself drowning, gasping for breath. If it weren’t for Ryouta he would have already fallen through, swallowed by the black hole of his mind.

As it is, with Ryouta’s thumb tracing mindless, comforting circles on the back of his hand, Sakuya can’t do anything but stare out of the bus window and wait for the hospital to come in sight.

They only allow one visitor at a time, for now.

There are other words coming out of the doctor’s mouth, words that Sakuya’s brain will catch up with half a minute too late – _he’s awake now_ and _don’t stress him too much_ and _no permanent damage to any vital organ_ – but it’s the last bit of information that makes him snap out of his reverie, along with the feeling of Ryouta’s hand leaving his.

He turns around to see the other boy taking a step back, arms crossed as if to brace himself against the world. _I’m sorry I’m acting like this_ he wants to say, and _I’m sorry you have to be here_ , too, because he knows Ryouta hates hospitals, after the lab and Iwamine and his mother.

But apologizing is still hard, even after such a long time knowing he’s not standing on a pedestal above a world of peasants, so what comes out is “Are you sure you will…”

“Of course. I’ll be fine. You go on.” Ryouta smile wavers only a bit at the edges, and Sakuya would kiss him right here and now if they were both in the mind for it. “I’ll go get something to eat and if it’s too much I’ll call Anghel and talk about…something. Go see your brother.”

Sakuya does not trust Anghel, but he trusts Ryouta, and the nutcase’s ability to distract others from reality goes undisputed, so he nods and turns to the room door waiting for him, and only hesitates a moment before opening it.

Compared to the rest of the hospital, Yuuya’s room is eerily peaceful, completely silent aside from the beeping of whatever machine is hooked on his brother’s body. Sakuya has half a mind to call Ryouta back and swap places, because despite the penetrant smell of disinfectant and cleaning products and _hospital_ , this quiet little corner is bound to be less stressful than the dingy, noisy café Ryouta will have to kill time in.

_Don’t be ridiculous_ , Sakuya scolds himself. He doesn’t run from things, and he certainly won’t run from the microscopic threat his bedbound brother poses _,_ no matter what his paranoia says _._

And Yuuya is indeed a sorry sight, face pinched and pale, no trace of his usual careless charm left. He’s staring straight ahead when Sakuya enters, gaze lost somewhere far, but he turns abruptly when he hears the door clicking shut, looking vaguely surprised.

“Sakuya?”

“You’re a bloody fool” are the first words Sakuya says, because of course they are.

The corner of Yuuya’s mouth curls in a tired smile. “Always so delicate, _mon frère_. A sight for sore eyes.”

Sakuya scoffs, walking closer to sit on a chair left beside the bed. It’s truly one of the most uncomfortable pieces of furniture he’s ever tried, and it would be more satisfying to remain standing and tower over Yuuya for once, but he has an hunch Ryouta would tell him to make an effort not to be an ass if he were here.

Besides, now that he’s seen his brother in the flesh, it’s as if the adrenaline rush that held him up until now had suddenly quieted down, gone with the irrational fear that he’d have to relive the scene on the infirmary floor. Yuuya is fine. Yuuya is his usual self, and Sakuya will _not_ let his brother see him tremble.

Still, a terse silence stretches between them for a while before Yuuya asks: “What time is it?”

He has to check, mostly because he’s lost track of the time right after he received the phone call. “A little after seven PM.”

“Uh. Wasted away most of my day, then. Yours, too. Did I interrupt anything? Any plan you’d made with your beau?”

“He came here with me” Sakuya snaps. “And don’t call him my- Only you would think about such things in your condition! You got shot, you bloody idiot, how did _that_ happen?”

“Have you no pity for your poor, injured brother?” Yuuya sighs. “If I’d wanted a lecture I would have made them call Leone.”

“Why didn’t you? I’m not your nursemaid, nor your chauffeur.”

“I wasn’t acting on his orders. Actually, I think he would kick my ass if he were here. It was not my brightest plan, I have to admit. But anyway – it would be suspicious if I had my former school’s janitor listed as my emergency contact, wouldn’t it?” Yuuya gives him a broad grin. “Besides, I trusted my little brother to come rushing to my aid.”

Sakuya rolls his eyes. Figures. Not even blood loss can dampen the idiot’s cheeky indole. “Was it worth this…this debacle? Did you get what you wanted?”

It’s a vague question, but he can’t do any better, because he doesn’t know anything past what the doctor told him, the number of bullets and the damage they left. He _hates_ not knowing, it makes him feel a step behind his interlocutors, but he can’t keep track of what his older brother is doing half of the time. They might be closer than they’ve ever been in their lives, but Yuuya is always busy, flitting from one place to the other, and it’s still awkward to talk to each other, too many unveiled secrets and unanswered questions pending between them. Sakuya could count the times they’ve spoken since Yuuya deigned to reveal he was alive on the fingers of one hand, and not a single one of these in private, without the impeding threat of someone bursting in into them.

Now that he thinks about it, perhaps that’s the reason why he still doesn’t know whether he’d rather scream his head off at Yuuya or beg for his forgiveness for whatever’s happened between them.

“Mmmh. Sort of. Enough that Leone won’t kick me out of the organization. Too many bullets for my taste, though. Luckily it seems that mysterious scars intrigue ladies more than one would think. I think the nurse was having a lot of fun, patching me up.”

On a second thought, maybe screaming wouldn’t be enough. Perhaps headbutting his brother on the nose, while dirty work, would be a more adequate reaction.

“Well, it seems you’re in high enough spirits” Sakuya says, standing up abruptly. This was a mistake. He can’t believe he just wasted precious time coming down here. He should be with Ryouta, should be the stable one in the relationship, not wander off out of mindless worry for someone who clearly is the picture of health despite the bullet wounds in his flesh. “I’ll get going. I’ll send someone to pick you up when you’re cleared to go-“

“What? Wait, Sakuya, I didn’t mean – Please, don’t go.”

It’s not the words that stop Sakuya on his tracks as he makes to leave. It’s the way they’re said, as if Yuuya were in genuine distress at seeing him step away from the bed.

“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I was just joking. I guess it’s an old habit I can’t get rid off.” Yuuya runs his fingers through his hair, flinching when the movement seems to tug at the stitching on his injuries. “I appreciate that you came to see me. And I’m sorry they called you. I know you’ve got better things to do than clean up after me. I haven’t even asked how it’s going, or how’s Ryouta.”

“He’s…taking things in stride. And I as well, of course.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Your small talk skills are worse than you thought, it seems.”

“Well, you’re not the most amicable of people, are you?”

_What do you expect?_ Sakuya wants to screech at him. _What do you want me to say?_

He doesn't, because if he does everything else will come tumbling out and he will say something he might regret later, showing his belly to a brother he's still unsure about. He doesn't speak, because speaking would mean telling Yuuya how he likes Ryouta, he likes Ryouta quite a lot, but his boyfriend lost months of his life in an underground vault and they're still trying to come to terms with how they fell in love while solving a murder mistery; how he's slowly pulling away from Monsieur Le Bel's hold, with a smaller apartment and the music school and little things one could easily wave away as teenage rebellion, but he can't barge into their mansion in France and accuse the man he used to call father of murder, because they don't have enough proof and he still holds their mother and mostly, mostly Sakuya couldn't afford losing the Le Bel influence before Ryouta was cured because only money and power would get researchers moving so fast; how he's tired and angry and the two of them haven't seen each other in months and haven't spoken properly since Yuuya came back from the dead, and yet his brother jests and jokes as if they'd been chatting just the day prior.

How he's been scared to lose Yuuya again ever since he got the phone call, and it feels so stupid, it feels so _unnatural_ that he's afraid to accept it.

He doesn't say anything, but his hands clench into fists, and he doesn't realise until his nails start digging in the soft skin of his palms. His hands are shaking, too, but he only sees it when Yuuya moves as if to take one, a hesitant gesture aborted halfway through that leaves his own hand hovering in the air.

"Sakuya, did you...Were you worried for me?"

Trust his brother to get a hold of his internal monologue and make it all about himself. "I see now that there was no need for it" Sakuya says, and he hates that he has to look away before his eyes start burning. _Weak. Disgraceful. Stop right this instant_.

A hand wraps around his wrist and tugs him down gently. He could get away easily enough - for all his strong facade, his brother _was_ weakened by his injuries, and Sakuya is hesitant to be so vulnerable, even for a single instant.

But it feels so much like Ryouta's hold did, soft and yet persistent, and he's so _tired_ , who could blame him for letting go, just once?

It's a pretty shameful hug, truth be told. They have to be careful not to pull at Yuuya's stitches, and it's awkward, uncharted territory for them, with only foggy memories of childish roughhousing and holding each other on the brink of death to go by. Still, Sakuya lets his brother pull him down and wrap his arms around him, and it feels weird, and it feels right.

"I'm sorry, _mon frère_ " Yuuya murmurs. "I'm sorry about a lot of things, but I swear I'll try my best not to die on you again."

"I don't trust you" Sakuya mumbles, glad that at least he can bury his face in the crook of his brother's shoulder so nobody has to witness it turning a burning red.

Laughter rumbles in Yuuya's chest, and he strokes Sakuya's head lightly, as one would a child. "Of course you don't. I still promise, though."

Sakuya is not so naive to believe it's all going to get magically fixed now. He still wants a proper explanation on a great amount of things, and he _still_ wants to punch his brother on the face once the doctors and Ryouta can't scold him about it, and the sooner he goes to retrieve Ryouta and apologizes to him the better.

But he doesn't think anyone would object to him staying in Yuuya's arms just a moment longer, just to savour the sheer peace of it.

Not when he himself is not objecting, for once.

**Author's Note:**

> Isn't it great when people HUG and start COMMUNICATING and they stop being IDIOTS  
> Also hello! This is my first work for Hatoful Boyfriend bc I finished Holiday Star about a week ago and I'm still navigating the fandom, so if the characterization is a bit wobbly that's why. Also I know nothing of Japanese hospitals and English is not my first language, I am but an Italian girl trying her best. If I messed up horribly PLEASE take it as creative liberties (or tell me! I like learning stuff and fixing mistakes once I find out about them).  
> This is a gift for a friend, but I hope the rest of you liked it as well! Thank you for reading! Love you all!
> 
> Edit 27/01/2020: this little thing got [fanart](https://the-pigeolympics.tumblr.com/post/190479316793/sakuya-and-yuuya-if-you-have-the-time-if-not-it) already and I've never been so stoked about anything ever OH MY GOD


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